Scandalous Deception

by Rosemary Rogers

  Edmond rose to his feet to pour another glass of the brandy. His entire body ached with weariness, but he could not allow himself to relax. Not so long as Brianna might have need of him.

  “I never doubted for a moment you would manage to apprehend the villains without incident.”

  Herrick grimaced. “Actually, it was not entirely without incident.”

  Edmond stilled, warned by the edge in his companion’s voice.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Unfortunately, even without their commander, a handful of the soldiers managed to disrupt the morning parade.”

  “How serious?”

  Herrick heaved a deep sigh as he moved to peer out the window. “It would have been nothing more than a trifling annoyance if Prince Michael had not been in attendance.”

  Edmond set aside his glass with enough force to crack the crystal. His one comfort as the dangerous situation unfolded was the hope that they had managed to keep the heavy hand of the Romanovs from making matters worse.

  Now that hope was to be dashed.

  “What the devil was the Prince doing there?”

  Herrick gave a rueful shrug. “I did not invite him, I assure you, but I could hardly command that he remain at the Palace.”

  Edmond shuddered at the mere thought of the unpredictable, highly emotional Prince reacting to the least hint of insubordination. Unlike Alexander Pavlovich, the younger royal had not yet learned the wisdom to be discovered in a tempered, thoughtful response to his subjects.

  “Mon dieu.”

  “Exactly. His reaction was…” Herrick struggled for an appropriate word. “Excessive,” he at last admitted.

  “Tell me the worst.”

  “He allowed the General to have them stripped and beaten in front of the entire regiment and then dragged by the heels to the prison barracks.”

  “Did any die?” Edmond rasped.

  “No, but the brutal treatment only inspired the other soldiers to resent his command. We were fortunate to keep the uprising to only a few of the Regiment.”

  Edmond scrubbed his hands over his face. Christ. He did not need to be within the barracks to realize that they would be smoldering with the resentment that could ignite the bloodshed they had struggled so hard to avoid.

  “We both know that they will not forget, nor will they forgive. I fear we have only deferred the day of reckoning.”

  “Perhaps,” Herrick grudgingly admitted.

  “You do know, Herrick, most countries would run a great deal more smoothly if left in the hands of the commoners.”

  The older gentleman smoothed his features into an unreadable mask. No matter what his annoyance with Prince Michael, Herrick would remain stoically loyal.

  “A wise gentleman would keep such thoughts to himself.”

  Knowing better than to argue, Edmond instead turned his attention to more pressing matters.

  “And Viktor Kazakov?”

  The smile returned to Herrick’s lips.

  “He was found in the church where you left him. Since the barrack prison was already filled, I believe he is currently locked in chambers at the Palace along with his cousin, Fedor Dubov.”

  Edmond gave a sharp bark of laughter, savoring the image of Viktor held prisoner in one of the luxurious rooms. It would be more galling than a damp dungeon.

  “Ah, so he did manage to claim his chambers at the Palace. He will be so pleased.”

  “To be honest, he did not appear particularly pleased,” Herrick said dryly. “Indeed, he was threatening all sorts of foul retributions toward you and your entire genealogy. If you desire, I can arrange a meeting so that you can rip out his tongue and put an end to his annoying boasts.”

  “I have far more important matters to attend to. I will depend on you to question Viktor and discover if there were any others involved.”

  “Of course.” Herrick studied him for a long, searching moment, his expression oddly somber.

  “Yes?”

  “This woman…”

  “Brianna,” Edmond snapped.

  “Brianna,” Herrick readily soothed. “Is she more than a passing fancy to you?”

  Edmond abruptly paced toward the stove, the rigid set of his shoulders revealing he was not pleased by the older man’s question.

  “You know that I never discuss my private affairs.”

  “And I would have no interest, so long as I presumed that the affair was…passing.” There was another awkward pause. “If, however, you intend to keep Miss Quinn as more than your mistress, then you must consider not only her reputation, but also your own.”

  “Tell me plainly what is on your mind, Herrick.”

  “As much as you might wish to forget your duties to your Czar, they cannot all be ignored. The most important being the introduction of your future bride to society.”

  Bride.

  A cold chill spread through his body. He had devoted years to convincing himself that he had been cursed. That destiny demanded he be alone, in punishment for having been the cause of his parents’ death.

  An irrational fear, perhaps, but one he could not overcome. Certainly not after he had watched Brianna nearly die twice in his arms.

  “I will not discuss this!”

  Herrick frowned, clearly puzzled by Edmond’s sharp tone. “I understand that you are still worried for Miss Quinn’s safety, but the traitors have been arrested, and the only danger now for the young lady is being revealed as your mistress before we can halt the ugly rumors. You know that Alexander Pavlovich will forgive any indiscretion, so long as it can be hidden beneath a vision of purity.” He reached out to clap Edmond on the shoulder. “We must have Miss Quinn moved to a less…unconventional household and provide a guardian who is above question.”

  “She will remain here with me, Herrick.”

  “But…”

  “Enough, Herrick.” Edmond angrily turned to pour himself another brandy. “Brianna will never be my wife.”

  “And who the bloody hell ever said I wanted to be your wife?” a sharp female voice demanded from the doorway.

  The glass slipped from Edmond’s fingers as he swiftly turned to see Brianna leaning weakly against the door jamb.

  With her slender body nearly lost amongst the folds of Vanya’s robe and her hair tumbled about her wan face, she looked unbearably young and fragile. There was no mistaking, however, the wounded fury that flashed in her magnificent eyes or the stiffening of her spine as he took an instinctive step forward.

  “Ma souris…”

  He had no notion of what he intended to say as he hurried toward her swaying form, and in the end it did not matter. Offering him a glare that cut like a dagger, Brianna gathered her small reserve of strength and slammed the door in his face.

  IF BRIANNA HAD NOT FELT SO weak and oddly defeated, she might very well have tossed a grand fit. There was, after all, any number of priceless figurines set about the room that would be perfect to shatter against the door. And if she managed to run out of ammunition, there was always the collection of marble busts that lined the bookshelves.

  Instead, she turned the key in the lock and crawled beneath the covers of her bed.

  Damn Lord Edmond Summerville to the netherworld.

  How dare he shame her by pronouncing to the silver-haired stranger that he would never have her as his bride?

  It was not as if she had been pestering him with pleas to become his wife. Or whining to have her shattered reputation restored. Or to even be assured that their relationship was more than a passing fancy.

  For God’s sake, she had not even told the annoying ass that she might be carrying his child.

  And thank goodness for that, a tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind. The very last thing she would ever want was his guilt-ridden attentions, or worse, offers of money, when he so obviously was prepared to be rid of her.

  Closing her eyes, Brianna struggled against the disappointment that threatened to drown her.

  Nothi
ng had truly changed, despite the fact that he had raced to the church to rescue her, and that he had put aside his duty to his country and his own fierce loyalty to Alexander Pavlovich to do so.

  Or even though he had sat at her bedside throughout the night, his hand gently stroking through her curls as he whispered words of comfort in her ear.

  She had been a fool to awaken with the warm sense of being utterly treasured. And even more a fool to force her aching body from the bed just so she could be closer to him. She would not make it all worse by allowing herself to be wounded by the realization that she was still no more than the woman currently sharing his bed.

  The brave thought had barely passed through her mind when a fist impatiently banged against the wooden panel of the door.

  “Brianna, unlock the door.”

  If she ignored him long enough, he would eventually disappear.

  There was nothing more certain.

  Nearly two hours later, she was proven right. Edmond did disappear. Or at least he halted the incessant pounding on her door and his demands that she allow him in.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Brianna pulled the covers over her head and concentrated upon the dull ache of her wounded shoulder.

  Her morose mood was at last interrupted by a soft tap on the door followed by Vanya’s voice.

  “Brianna? Brianna, I come bearing gifts,” she said. “May I enter?”

  Brianna poked her head from the covers. “Are you alone?”

  “Except for my maid.”

  “Just a moment.”

  On the point of attempting to struggle from the bed, Brianna was halted by Vanya’s firm command.

  “No, do not leave the bed, I have a key.” There was the scrape of metal upon metal and then the door was being thrust open to allow Vanya to sail in, followed closely by a young maid with rosy cheeks and curious blue eyes. “Here you are, my dear.” With an imperious motion, Vanya waved the maid forward, watching the girl as she settled the large tray across Brianna’s knees before giving a hasty dip and scurrying from the room.

  Brianna breathed deeply of the delicious aromas that filled the air. The faint queasiness that had returned over the past hour was not enough to put off her sudden appetite.

  “Is that gingerbread?” She plucked off the linen napkin to reveal a bowl of broth and sliced bread, as well as a plate of freshly baked gingerbread.

  “Still warm from the oven, although I was forced to promise Cook that I would ensure that you did not have a bite until you had finished off her famous chicken broth that she swears will heal any illness.”

  Obediently, Brianna reached for her spoon to sample the rich broth that slid down her throat and spread a welcome heat through her still-chilled body.

  “It is very good,” she murmured, polishing off the soup and a slice of the bread before reaching for the plate of gingerbread and leaning back in the mounds of pillows. As she savored her treat, she was aware of Vanya’s concerned gaze.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Weak.”

  “Are you in pain?”

  “My shoulder aches, although I am unfortunately becoming rather accustomed to bullet wounds.”

  Vanya smiled, perching on the edge of the mattress. “It is not a habit that I would recommend.”

  “Neither would I.” Brianna lowered her gaze to the plate of gingerbread, deliberately hiding her expression from her companion. “Thankfully, I have every confidence that, once I return to London, my future will be a great deal more peaceful.”

  “London? You intend to leave St. Petersburg?”

  “Of course. Russia is a beautiful, if rather frozen country, and you have made me very welcome, but England is my home.”

  Vanya shifted on the bed, clearly caught off guard by Brianna’s firm insistence that she would be leaving.

  “I can certainly understand your desire to return home, but surely Edmond will not wish to travel until you have completely healed?”

  Popping the last of the gingerbread into her mouth, Brianna replaced the plate on the tray. Then, with a grim determination, she lifted her head to meet her companion’s searching gaze.

  “My travel plans do not include Edmond, Vanya.” Her voice hardened. “Neither does my future.”

  With a frown, Vanya reached to grasp Brianna’s fingers in a comforting grasp.

  “Oh, my dear, I hope you do not blame Edmond for what happened to you? He could not possibly have known.”

  Brianna shrugged. She did not blame him for her abduction. At least not directly. He could not have known Viktor Kazakov would be so desperate.

  But she did blame him for having forced his way into her life and her heart, only to leave both a shattered mess.

  Something she had no intention of confessing to anyone. Not even this kind, understanding woman.

  “Perhaps not, but I can assure you that I was never shot or kidnapped or attacked until Edmond insisted that I play the role of his fiancée.”

  Vanya arched a brow, her eyes questioning. “Actually, that is not entirely true, is it, my dear?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Edmond did happen to mention that your stepfather attempted to kidnap you only days before you traveled to Russia.”

  “Good lord, I had almost forgotten,” she breathed in genuine amazement. Thomas Wade and the fear he had once inspired seemed very far away. “Which only proves just how unnerving the past few weeks have been.”

  “And you blame Edmond?”

  Brianna hid a rueful smile at the disapproval that Vanya could not entirely hide. The older woman might have come to care for Brianna, but her loyalty still belonged to Edmond.

  “It is not a matter of blame.”

  “No?”

  “It is…” Brianna heaved a deep sigh. “I just want to return to England and my quiet, uneventful life. That is what I have always wanted.”

  Vanya tightened her grip on Brianna’s fingers. “And what if you carry Edmond’s child?”

  Brianna did not flinch at the blunt question. In truth, she had given the matter a great deal of thought over the past few hours.

  It would be weeks before she could know for certain whether or not she was pregnant, but she intended to be well-prepared. She would do whatever was necessary, make any sacrifice, to ensure that she could create a warm, secure home for her child.

  “Then I will choose a cottage in a small village where no one knows me,” she said. “I have enough money to support a household and it will be a simple matter to pretend to be a widow.”

  “And what of Edmond?”

  “What of him?”

  Vanya stared at her with more than a hint of incredulity. “You cannot truly believe that Edmond will simply allow you to disappear to a small cottage? Especially if he discovers you are carrying his child?”

  “Why would he not?” Brianna demanded, refusing to acknowledge the sharp pain that stabbed through her heart. “Our relationship was always destined to be a temporary affair, as Edmond has made painfully clear. No doubt he is already searching for another to take my place.”

  Vanya tilted back her head to chuckle with unexpected amusement.

  “Good lord, Brianna, you truly are an innocent.”

  Brianna flushed with annoyance. “Not nearly so innocent as I once was,” she pointed out tartly.

  Vanya patted her hand. “My dear, may I give you some advice?”

  “If you wish.”

  Vanya’s lips twitched, as if she sensed Brianna was struggling to remain polite.

  “I have never claimed to be extraordinarily wise, but life has taught me a few hard-earned lessons,” she said in a soft, haunted tone. “The most important being that love is a rare and wonderful gift that you should never take for granted.”

  Brianna gritted her teeth against the tide of pain that slammed into her at the memory of Edmond’s stark refusal to even consider her as his bride.

  He could not have made his lack of regard more clear if he
had etched it in stone.

  “Edmond does not love me.”

  “Actually, I am not nearly so certain as you, but I do not refer only to accepting the love of others, but to allowing love to grow in your own heart.” Vanya’s eyes became misty with remembered pain. “In my fear and pride, I closed off my feelings for my daughter, not to mention a good and decent man who has offered me nothing but unwavering loyalty. Do not make my mistake, Brianna. Do not deny the emotions that fill your heart. That path leads only to regret.”

  Brianna determinedly ignored the faint chill at Vanya’s dire warning, and instead concentrated upon the woman who clearly still mourned her past.

  Unlike herself, Vanya possessed a man who loved her beyond all measure. A man who wanted nothing more than to have her as his wife.

  “It is not too late, Vanya,” Brianna insisted softly, not surprised when the older woman firmly pulled her hand free and rose from the mattress. “Mr. Monroe adores you, and I do not doubt he will forgive you if only you would give him the opportunity.”

  “But first I must forgive myself, my dear.” A wistful smile touched Vanya’s lips as she moved toward the door. “At least think upon my words. Edmond is pacing the floor outside. He is rather desperate to see you.”

  “No.” Brianna gave a sharp shake of her head, only to wince in pain as she unwittingly jarred her tender shoulder. “No, I do not want to speak with him.”

  “Very well.” Vanya heaved a faint sigh. “Just rest, my dear. All will be fine.”

  All will be fine?

  Brianna shivered as Vanya stepped from the room and closed the door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  EDMOND LEANED WEARILY AGAINST the mantle as he waited for Vanya to leave Brianna’s bedchamber. He could feel the rasp of his whiskers against his palms and knew that he must look nearly as bad as he felt.

  He could not remember the last time he had slept, or eaten. Certainly not in the past two days. Still, he could not force himself to leave Brianna’s chambers. Not until he had managed to…

  To what?